Page 40 of Flawed

I stare at him for a moment, trying to regulate my breathing, barely feeling the effects of the weed.

Angelo softens his tone. "Sit."

I cave, plopping down on the oversized seat and taking another drag of my joint.

"You, too," Angelo orders his sons.

They sit on the couch, and Angelo stands between us. He asks, "When and where is this taking place, Luca?"

I scrub my hand over my face then answer, "Down at the docks. I'm supposed to let Eddie know when it's arranged."

Angelo nods. "Good. This is good. We have control, then."

I blurt out, "I'm going to blow my cover if I stop Danny from killing Brody or don't do it myself."

"We have time to figure this out," Angelo claims.

I sarcastically laugh. "Time? Do you think Jacopo is giving me time? He wants this done now!"

Angelo holds his hands in the air. "Take a breather, Luca."

"Easy for you to say," I mutter, then take another long drag.

"Can you give me two days? Tully is back from Ireland tomorrow night," Angelo informs.

I shake my head. "Two days is a lot for Jacopo. You know how he lacks patience."

Silence fills the air.

"I'm fucked. I either kill Brody or blow my cover. And I've sacrificed too much to end this now, Angelo."

He takes a deep breath then goes to his desk. He sits down and dials a number.

Dante and Gianni stare at me, but I ignore them. Those two are so in tune with each other that these types of moments annoy me.

Angelo keeps his gaze on me, stating into the phone, "We have an issue, and there's no time to wait for your return. I assume I have permission to direct your sons as needed?"

The room stays silent. We never tear our gaze away.

Angelo finally says, "Noted. Have a safe flight home." He hangs up and states, "I'll send for Brody. Clear your schedule the rest of the day."

"You're going to tell him who I am?" I question, my stomach churning. The O'Connors may be a Marino alliance, but the more people who know my true identity, the riskier my situation becomes.

"Do you have a better solution to make sure Brody doesn't die while your cover doesn't get blown?" Angelo asks.

I exhale loudly. There's no way around this. Either way, one of us has to lose something. In this scenario, it makes sense my cover comes first. I don't like it, but it is what it is, so I threaten, "He better know how to shut his mouth."

Angelo declares, "The O'Connors know how to stay quiet."

"Do I have a choice other than to take your word for it?" I sneer, inhaling another lungful of weed. I stub it out in the ashtray then release the smoke.

The room stays quiet. Angelo crosses his arms over his chest. He gives me more leeway to discuss things with him how I want because of the role I play for the family. But when he gives me that expression, I know I'm teetering on the disrespect line.

Frustrated, I walk toward the exit and demand, "Call me when I'm needed." I make my way through the house and get back into my Viper, revving the engine, then going faster out of the driveway than Angelo would prefer.

I don't know where I'm going, but I absentmindedly drive to the street Chanel lives on. It's stupid. I know I can't have her, yet my mind tells me if I can just see her face, it'll calm me down.

I pull in front of her building and turn off the car. Hours pass with no sign of her. I almost start the engine and leave when I spot her walking down the sidewalk. She's wearing a rusty-orange dress and tan leather knee-high boots. She's carrying two brown shopping bags. But what I notice the most is how she appears to be glowing.

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